“Oh, Miss Viola, so you went out for an early walk, did you? Well, that is a splendid way to brighten your color for the wedding! But why did you lock the door? You have given us all such a fright!”
Viola pushed past her without a word, and hurried into the dining-room.
When she saw the two elderly people in the shocking state caused by the news of her elopement, it made her heart ache with tenderness and pity.
She rushed to them, crying wildly, imploringly:
“Oh, papa!—oh, auntie! don’t look so wretched, please! I want you both to forgive me!”
She flung her arms about her father and covered his purple, distorted face with piteous kisses, the tears raining from her eyes.
“Papa, darling, won’t you forgive your naughty Viola?”
For answer he pushed her violently from him with all the strength he could exert in his weakened state.
She caught the back of a chair, or she must have fallen.
“Papa!” she gasped, reproachfully.